


i put a spell on you

by westofmoon



Series: Throne of Glass x Harry Potter au drabbles [5]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Amortentia, F/M, Fluff, Love Potion/Spell, ToGxHP au, blink and you miss it - Freeform, hint of elorcan, hint of manorian, love potion spiked food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2020-11-24 01:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westofmoon/pseuds/westofmoon
Summary: Rowan should have suspected that something like this might happen. He really should.Thinking back, there were plenty of red-flags that he had foolishly ignored that day early in the semester in potions class. But it had been months ago now, and he had almost forgotten about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alifletcher2010](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alifletcher2010/gifts).

> Thank you so much for suggesting the ‘Amortentia’ prompt on tumblr! I hope you like it!!

Rowan should have suspected that something like this might happen. He really should.

Thinking back, there were plenty of red-flags that he had foolishly ignored that day early in the semester in potions class. But it had been months ago now, and he had almost forgotten about it.

When he entered the classroom that day with the other sixth years, there were greeted by the sight of four caldrons set up on the work tables nearest the front of the room, each containing a different swirling liquid. Their professor had ushered them closer to inspect each and informed them that these were but a few of the potions they would be learning during the coming weeks. 

“This one,” he gestured to the nearest, that looked like steaming water, clear and odorless, “is Veritaserum. It forces the drinker to tell the truth.” And on he went, explaining each in turn. 

The second looked like a vat of bubbling mud, Polyjuice potion —which Rowan recognized from firsthand experience. The third was a molten gold concoction, with large drops bouncing around the top like goldfish jumping in a pond. Felix Felicis, liquid luck. 

And the fourth, and current bane of Rowan’s existence, was Amortentia, a love potion. 

Every girl in class, and even a few of the boys, had eyed that particular potion with far too much interest to be comfortable. Especially Lyria. Especially with how she had eyed him after. 

That should have set of the first red-flag right then. Should have put him on his guard. But it had been nearly two-and-a-half years since he had broken things off with her, and he had gotten used to her dejected and petulant looks she threw at him and Aelin. 

He should have known better.

Their grandfatherly professor had eyed them all with a look that urge caution. “It doesn’t create true love, that is impossible. But it does inspire a powerful, overwhelming obsession. Infatuation, if you will. And because of this it is the most dangerous potion in this room.”

Rowan couldn’t help how his thoughts drifted to Aelin. He doubted any ‘love potion’ could ever manufacture the way she made him feel. The pure joy that coursed through him just from seeing her smile or her brilliant eyes. Doubted it could make his heart skip in his chest at the smallest brush of her hand. Or set his magic dancing in his veins the way it did every time she was near.

No. No potion could ever create or hope to compare to the way he felt about Aelin Galathynius, the love he felt for his fireheart. Even if he hadn’t told her yet.

“Amortentia is unique in that it’s scent is different to each individual who comes into contact with it, appealing purely to what attracts them,” the professor explained. He looked at their faces and then crooked a finger. “Salvaterre, Blackbeak, Whitethorn. Would you care to demonstrate this effect for the class?” When their eyes widened in alarm he laughed heartily. “Oh, just a sniff! I don’t want you to drink it!”

Slowly, Rowan, Lorcan and Manon took a step towards the table and, one at a time, leaned in for a sniff.

Lorcan went first, and announced he smelled forests and rivers, cinnamon and elderberries. 

The white haired witch went next. Informing the class she scented fresh air, wyvern scales, black tea and books. She blinked in alarm, a faint flush tingeing her pale cheeks as she glowered at the potion and quickly retook her place in the group. 

Lastly went Rowan, Lyria’s gaze burning into his back like a brand, as he eyed the deceptively innocent looking liquid. The pearly sheen and spiraling tendrils of steam taunting. And then he took a deep breath.

Steam tickled his nose as his senses were filled with a pleasant mixture of scents. It took him a heartbeat to separate and define each of them. “Mountain forest. Vanilla. Jasmine and lemon verbena and lavender.” It hadn’t surprised him at all that the potion smelled like Aelin to him.

All through class, as they had brewed their required potion for the day, Rowan had felt Lyria’s stare like a deadweight on his shoulders. And at the end of class, she had volunteered a bit too eagerly to help the professor clean up the room.

That wasn’t anything new, she often volunteered to help their professors clean up after classes. But never in potions. That should have been the biggest alarm bell of them all, but he had been in a rush to find Aelin before her next class and hadn’t stopped to wonder more about it. And in the weeks that followed it faded to the back of his mind. 

So when his birthday arrived, he hadn’t suspected anything out of the ordinary when he found the box on his bed.

He and Aelin had been in the common room for hours, curled up in one of the huge plush armchairs by the fireplace. They had the place mostly to themselves since nearly everyone had gone home for Yulemas.

Rowan had his head on her shoulder, and her legs were draped across his lap, his calloused fingertip catching on the wool of her knee-high socks as he traced circles on her legs, listening to the feathery tones of her voice as she read to him, some story about a queen and a prince.

It had been a long day of fun with their friends, and now that they had all turned in for the night, Rowan had wanted to stay up for some alone time with Aelin. But he was tired and her voice was so soothing that his traitorous eyes were growing heavy. 

“As soon as I finish this chapter,” she murmured when he asked if she was ready for bed, her brilliant eyes not leaving the page. He laughed softly, knowing full well that meant she would read at least five more chapters before putting the book down. 

So he pecked her on the cheek and stood. Aelin tilted her head back expectantly, puckering her lips. With another chuckle, he leaned down and kissed her. Once. Twice. Three times. And then made his way to the stairs leading up to the boys dorms. 

“Goodnight birthday boy.”

He laughed again. “My birthday is over.”

“Not for another fifteen minutes, buzzard.” She was peering over the back of the chair with laughing eyes. 

Rowan couldn’t help the wide smile that tugged at his lips. “Goodnight fireheart.” And then he climbed the stairs to his room and changed into his pajamas. He was about to collapse onto his bed when he noticed the box. Small and flat and tied with an emerald bow. He had thought he had finally escaped all the embarrassing gifts and attention of the day. Apparently he was wrong.

He climbed into bed and inspected to box, finding a small slip of parchment beneath one of the loops of the ribbon, ‘Happy Birthday Rowan’ written in small neat letters he didn’t recognize. Pursing his lips, he hooked a finger in the ribbon and tugged it off the box, catching the flowery hint of jasmine and lavender clinging to the strip of silk. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he lifted the lid and was greeted with the tantalizing scents of apple and cinnamon. 

Aelin. He shook his head in amusement as he looked down at the box full of small apple pastries. 

Last weekend, Aelin had purchased a box of them from the sweet shop in the nearby village, knowing apple was one of his favorites. An early birthday present she had called it when he protested, even thought they had ended up sharing them and she had pouted about eating half of his present later. She must have snuck and ordered a batch to make it up to him. Not that she needed too, but he knew how she was.

He plucked one of the small tarts out of the box and lifted it to his lips. And a strange feeling settled in his gut. A nagging, trying to get his attention. Like something was trying to remind him of something important. 

He just dismissed it as a pang of guilt for not going back downstairs to share with Aelin. 

It wasn’t until his teeth were sinking into the crust, and he felt a strange floral-tasting warmth spread across his tongue, and he found that the jasmine and lavender scent was coming, not from the ribbon, but from the pastry itself, that he realized just how big of a mistake he had made. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long.
> 
> Day 14 of my 17 days of Rowaelin drabbles.

With a wistful sigh, Aelin came to the end of the page she was reading and quickly flipped to the next one. 

It was late, past midnight now. She knew all too well that Yulemas Eve at the castle was always eventful and that she should have gone to bed a while ago but the story was just getting to the good part. The handsome prince was in the middle of confessing his undying love for his queen, and Aelin _had_ to know what would happen ne- 

_Bang_. 

Aelin nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden loud noise, her slipping from between her fingers and tumbling to the floor. She quickly pushed herself up to peer over the back of the plush green chair she was sitting in. 

That noise, like something heavy landing on the floor, had come from upstairs. 

Half a heartbeat later, there was a muffled yelp followed by another loud thump. A door slammed and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the stairwell. 

And then Rowan appeared, now clad in his pajamas, his shirt rumpled and silvery-white hair charmingly mussed. He stumbled over his own socked-clad feet, and the only thing that prevented him from taking a tumble was his hand quickly shooting out to grasp the handrail just as he lost his balance. Though he still slid down several steps on his knees. 

Aelin winced slightly at what likely hurt like hell, but Rowan seemed completely unfazed by it, quickly righting himself back to his feet. And then he was moving again, striding across the common room with long purposeful steps. 

A laugh escaped Aelin’s lips at her boyfriend’s unusually clumsy behavior and Rowan halted in his tracks, his green eyes snapping around to alight on her. There was such a dumbfounded expression on his face as he looked at her that Aelin found herself laughing again. 

She twisted around in the chair until she was kneeling in the seat, crossing her arms atop the back of the chair. “If you came back for more last minute birthday kisses, you clumsy buzzard, you’re a little late,” she teased with a grin. “You’re birthday ended some time ago. _Buuuut_… I think I can make an exception." 

Rowan just blinked at her in response, giving her a confused look. His turned his head slightly as his eyes flitted about the room, as if he thought there might be someone else in the room that she was speaking to instead of him. 

Aelin pouted when he didn’t play along. He had probably come back to scold her for not going to bed. Rolling her eyes, she clambered out of the chair, stopping momentarily to pick up the book she had dropped before moseying over to her boyfriend. "I know, I know,” she grumbled, “I said I would go to bed as soon as I finished the chapter but it was just getting exciting and…” She trailed off as she realized that…

Rowan still hadn’t said anything. He was still giving her that same weird look, silver brows drawn together in confusion. As if she had grown a second head or was speaking in a language that he didn’t understand. His green eyes shifted nervously, flitting over to the common room door before returning on her face, and Aelin’s own brow furrowed in concern. “Rowan? Are you okay?" 

He cast another distracted glance about the room, as if he were in a daze. "I need to find Lyria,” he murmured.

Aelin blinked surprise. “Lyria?” she asked in confusion. That certainly was not what she had expected. Why would he need to-

Rowan’s eyes took on a dreamy, far-off look. “I have to tell her I love her,” he sighed wistfully.

The book Aelin was holding slipped from between her fingers, landing with a loud thump on the floor next to her toes. Surely she had misheard. “W-what did you say?” she asked slowly.

“Lyria,” he repeated, a dopey grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m in love with her.”

Hurt flared through every fiber of her being at Rowan’s unexpected declaration, and she staggered back half of a step. But it was quickly replaced by irritation. 

He was picking on her. He had to be. Because there was no other logical explanation that he- She couldn’t even finish the thought. 

As much as Aelin loved a good prank, this was a bit much. And of all the topics he could have chosen, he had gone with this one? 

“This isn’t _funny_, Rowan,” she said, scowling up at him. If he thought that just because it was his birthday that she would let him off easy for this, he was sorely mis-

“It’s not supposed to be _funny_,” he countered with the utmost seriousness, leveling an annoyed glare at _her_. But then his eyes glazed over and he shouldered past her, wandering almost drunkenly over to the large wall of windows that overlooked Oakwald forest beyond the castle. He dropped down onto the floor, crossing his long legs beneath him as he gazed up at the moon that now peeking between the clouds. Another heavy sigh passed between his lips.

Aelin gaped at him, unable to comprehend her boyfriend’s strange behavior. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Unless _she_ was… wrong. 

Just then, another commotion sounded from behind them. Aelin glanced over her shoulder just as Connall and Fenrys came stomping down the stairs, wands drawn and looking ready for a brawl, Fenrys with a hand cupping his nose. Both twins halted abruptly when they saw her standing there. 

They must have noticed how upset she looked, for their brows drew together in twin looks of concern, their dark eyes scanned her from head to toe. And then Fenrys glared over top of her head at Rowan. “Waddah ell iv won wifoo,” he demanded. Or tried to. He sounded very much like his nose had been broken.

Rowan, however, paid nary a one of them any mind. He simply continued to stare out the window at the moon like some love drunk sap, drawing little symbols and hearts and swirls on the windowpane with a finger.

Arching a brow, Aelin turned her gaze back to the twins, “What happened?” she asked Connall, since she couldn’t make sense of a word Fenrys was saying. 

The dark-haired twin made a face, crossing his arms over his chest. His wand was still gripped tightly in his fist as he eyed Rowan warily, as if expecting to have to defend himself at any second. “He cast a body-bind spell on me, and then punched Fen in the nose.”

“Ah ee ongide ee,” Fen muttered.

Aelin’s brows shot up in alarm, her eyes darting back over to her boyfriend. “Something is wrong with him. He was fine a few minutes ago when he went upstairs.” What in the wyrd could have happened in the past twenty minutes to cause such a shift in his behavior.

Fenrys’s face brightened suddenly. “Ee wav noma hill ee ay dah han-vee,” he said then, turning to look at her.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, not understanding a word that Fenrys had said. Connall apparently shared the sentiment, given the way his lip curled back from his teeth as he eyed his brother. “What?” they both asked in unison.

“Han-vee,” Fen repeated, as if whatever he was saying was obvious. He lifted his hands to his mouth and pecked his fingers against his lips in a bird-beak gesture. “Ee ay oon an-”

“Oh, for Mala’s sake!” Aelin snarled as she whipped out her wand and pointed it at Fenrys’s face. A quick bark of the counter curse and Fenrys let out a gasp as his tongue suddenly straightening out in his mouth. 

Fenrys worked his jaw back and forth experimentally, his expression brightening. “Thanks,” he grinned at Aelin. And then he jabbed his elbow into Connall’s ribs, giving him a dirty look that clearly asked, _why didn’t you do that_? He turned back to Aelin. “He ate a pastry out of that candy box on his bed and then started rambling on about Lyria,” he finally explained clearly, though his voice still sounded a bit nasally. His nose likely was broken.

From over by the window, Rowan perked up. “Lyria?” he asked excitedly. Aelin glanced over at her boyfriend and found him half turned towards them, his eyes wide and bright at the mention of the other girl. “I love Lyria.”

Fen waved a hand dismissively, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, that’s nice Rowan.”

But Rowan ignored the sarcasm of the statement. “She’s so nice,” he sighed again, turning back around to the window to look up at the moon once more. “And her hair is so brown… Like dirt.”

Despite the situation, and how concerned she was for her boyfriend, Aelin had to bite her lip to keep from laughing aloud at Rowan’s not-so-flattering comparison. But Fenrys apparently had no such restraint, snorting loudly, before he winced, his hands flying back up to his nose.

“So that’s what she was up to,” Connall mused quietly, his dark brows drawn together as he studied Rowan carefully. 

“What?”

“Who?”

Connall’s mouth twisted down at one corner. “L… Lyria,” he said quietly, so as not to alert Rowan. “She gave me that box earlier tonight, at dinner. She said it was a birthday present but that she didn’t want him to know it was from her because he wouldn’t accept it. But she seemed off. Nervous.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. 

Aelin followed his gaze back to Rowan. The silver-haired boy was now breathing on the cold windowpane to make it cloud up. He then proceeded to scribble little _R+L_’s all over the patch of condensation. As she watched, something twisted painfully in Aelin’s chest.

But then Con let out a gasp, his face lighting up with realization. “She spiked those pastries with a love potion.”

Aelin’s eyes widened in alarm.

“That smelly thing we made in Potions class earlier this year?” Fen asked.

“Yes,” Connall nodded. “She was in our class too. So she knows how to make it.”

If Connall was right…. Aelin bit her lip. _Oh Rowan_. Her heart ached for her boyfriend and what he was going through at the moment. But she was also pissed. Not at Rowan, no, none of this was his fault. It was Lyria’s. Trying to force Rowan to take her back with a love potion? Aelin was furious enough to breath fire. She wanted to go find Lyria and turn her into a garden gnome.

But right now, they needed to get Rowan a cure for that love potion. Lyria could wait.

Forcing her anger back down to a simmer, Aelin looked up at the twins “We need to get him to the infirmary,” she told them. Con and Fen both nodded in agreement. 

Good. Now came the tricky part of convincing Rowan to go with them. She turned back to the window. “Hey, Rowa-” and her voice died on her lips.

Because Rowan wasn’t there. “Rowan?” She called, her eyes darting about the common room. “Rowan!” Where had he- 

The familiar low grumbling of the common room entry door echoed down the hallway to their right. Oh no. 

“Rowan!” Aelin yelled, her voice rising with her panic as she took off towards the doors. 

One of the twins hissed behind her, “Damn it!" 

Aelin shoved against the heavy door, forcing it open before it had had time to full shut, pushing her way out into the hall. She was vaguely aware of the twins joining her a moment later, and Mort’s hurled threats and insults about being disturbed in the middle of the night. 

But Aelin paid them no mind as she scanned the halls for her boyfriend. But he was no where to be seen. 

~*~

There was no question as to where Rowan was going. Aelin knew. So did the twins. And sure enough, when they rounded the corner into the castles long western corridor several minutes later, there he was. Pacing back and forth before the entrance of the Crochan common room. 

Aelin let out a heavy sigh of relief at the sight of her boyfriend, thankful he hadn’t done anything stupid in the brief minutes they had lost track of him. 

Rowan was running his hands through his short silver hair, clearly frustrated as he argued with the portrait that served as the door to the Crochan tower. "I don’t know the password!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing slightly in the empty hall. He was so focused that he hadn’t even noticed the noise they had made running down the halls. 

And in a matter of minutes, Aelin and the twins had quickly closed the distance between them, trying to get around him and prevent him from bolting again. 

He still hadn’t noticed their presence, staring up at the lovely black-haired woman in the portrait imploringly. But she was unmoved by his desperate pleading. “No password, no entry, pretty boy,” she quipped, turning up her nose.

“But I have to see Lyria!” he cried, taking a step closer. 

She arched a dark brow, and then her golden eyes flicked up and she met Aelin’s gaze before looking back down at Rowan. She shrugged dismissively. “That’s not my problem,” she crooned, picking a nonexistent piece of lint off of her red cloak and tossed it aside.

The portrait was trying to help them, Aelin realized, and she could only pray to all the gods that it would workd for a few more minutes. They were so close, just a few more meters and they would be would have him blocked in.

But unfortunately, they gods seemed to have no sympathy for her tonight. For Rowan made a noise of irritation and turned away, muttering curses under his breath. And his eyes widened as they fell on her, his shoulders tensing as noticed Connall and Fenrys as well. 

Connall rushed for him, trying to grab him, but Rowan drew his wand and threw up a shield charm, as he spun on his heel and took off down the hall like the wind itself was pushing him along. 

Aelin staggered back into a run, going after him. “Rowan, wait!" 

But he didn’t. He didn’t stop, and he didn’t slow down. He almost seemed to move faster. 

Rowan came to an adjoining corridor and turned, his socked feet slipping on the stone floors as he tore off down the hallway, Aelin and the twins not far behind. 

Fenrys was the fastest of the three of them, almost as quick as Rowan himself, and the golden haired twin was quickly gaining on Rowan. Just as he was close enough to tackle him to the floor, Rowan spun around, the tip of his wand flashing as he pointed it at Fenrys’s face. Fen let out a yelp as he ducked, narrowly avoiding the small ball of energy that shot out at him. 

But Connall wasn’t so lucky. His entire body seized up mid-step, his arms snapping down to his sides and his legs going ram-rod straight beneath him as he pitched forward, landing on the floor with a loud and painful _thump_. Another body-bind spell.

Oh, Aelin already knew they were never going to let Rowan hear the end of this once they got that love spell off of him. 

Rowan took advantage of their momentary distraction by darting into a nearby classroom. Growling, Fenrys shoved himself back to his feet and charged into the room after him.

When Aelin stumbled into the classroom a heartbeat later, she was nearly blinded by a flash of light that, this time, met its mark and hit Fenrys square in the face.

As Fen went down onto his backside, Aelin drew her own wand and pointed it at Rowan. ”_Dì-armaich_!“ 

Rowan glanced up at her in alarm, just as the disarming spell hit his hand. His wand went flying, and Aelin vaguely heard it clatter onto the floor a few feet way, somewhere behind a desk. He stared down at his now empty hand for a moment before looking back up at her, his eyes full of betrayal.

Aelin’s stomach twisted at the look. She felt terrible for doing it to him, really she did. It wasn’t Rowan’s fault that he was acting like this, that he couldn’t control himself at the moment. No that blame fell squarely on Lyria’s shoulders. But it didn’t change the fact that, left to his own devices, he couldn’t cause harm to them or to himself, so Aelin had done what she had to.

Fenrys pulled himself back to his feet, clinging onto a desk. And Rowan’s eyes darted between the two of them before settling on her again. And his pine green eyes narrowed.

An icy blast of wind swirled through the room, sending parchment and dust spiraling about. Aelin ducked her head, throwing her arm before her face to keep from being blinded by her hair whipping about wildly.

And then she heard one of the windows snap open with a bang, and she saw a light flash from behind her closed lids. Her eyes snapped open, recognizing what that flash meant. “Rowan, don’t!”

But he had already shifted. 

A white-tailed hawk shot towards the now open window, tucking his wings to his sides as he soared through the narrow opening and out into the cold night. 

Aelin rushed over to the window, leaning her upper half out as her eyes desperately scanned the skies, searching for that telltale flash of white from his tail-feathers. But Rowan was gone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dì-armaich - ‘disarm’ in Scottish Gaelic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 17 of my 17 days of Rowaelin drabbles.

They had looked everywhere for Rowan, the three of them splitting up so they could cover more ground, searching every hallway and corner of the school. But it was as if Rowan had vanished, and Aelin was starting to give up hope of finding her boyfriend anytime soon.

She didn’t know what to do. If they couldn’t find him and convince him to go to the hospital wing, the only other option they would have would be to wait out the love potion and let Rowan return to her once it had worn off. Aelin didn’t like that plan, not one bit. Mala only knew how long that would take, or what sort of trouble Rowan would get himself into between now and then. But as the seconds ticked by, it was starting to look more and more inevitable.

As Aelin began down yet another empty corridor, a thought struck her. Her father’s map, the one that revealed the locations of every person within the school at any given second.

How could she have forgotten about it? If Rowan was anywhere, the map would show it. Even if he was in his animal form.

And if the map revealed that he had, in fact, somehow made it into the Crochan tower and was with Lyria, well… Aelin would figure out her own way to get into that tower. Even if she had to rip that portrait off of the wall with her bare hands. Even if it got her expelled.

Not wanting to waste another second, Aelin quickly set out for their own common room, running in her eagerness to find her map and see where in the wyrd Rowan could have flown off to. But as she passed the arched doorway of the spiral staircase leading up to the Astronomy Tower, she paused.

Taking a few halting steps closer, she peered up into the darkened stairwell, noting the faint glow of moonlight shining through the spacious doorways atop the tower. Aelin gnawed on her lip hesitantly, casting a wary glance further down the hall to the entrance of the Galathynius common room. It was merely meters away, in fact she could hear Mort’s spine chilling metallic snoring. It was right there, the map was right there. But…

Something in her gut, her heart, was telling her she needed to go up there. Like a pull, tugging her up up up. It made more sense to go get the map so she would know for sure but… what if Rowan was up there?

Taking a deep breath and hoping against hope that she wasn‘t making a mistake, Aelin took a step into the darkness and began the steep climb to the top of the tower.

~*~

Rowan was standing out on the balcony, his hands resting on the metal railing as he stared up at the moon once more. His silver hair shimmered like it itself had been made from strands of starlight.

Careful, so as not to spook him and send him running again, Aelin stepped out onto the balcony. Rowan turned his head ever so slightly in her direction, an acknowledgement of her presence, but otherwise he made no move to flee. So Aelin took that last step up the railing, standing beside him.

He seemed so much calmer now, more collected and like himself. So far from how he had been acting in the halls below, like a wild animal in fear of it‘s life.

“I don’t know why I came here,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. Aelin glanced up at him questioningly, and saw that his brow had furrowed in confusion. “I was going to fly up to the Lyria’s window but I just…,” his eyes fell from the moon, down to the darkened tree line of Oakwald, “I turned and came here. I don’t know why, but something just told me to come here.”

Aelin blinked in surprise, her heart beating a little quicker. Whatever it had been that had urged Rowan to come here, could it have been the same thing that had nudged her as well? Perhaps the gods weren’t sitting back, making a joke out of her life after all.

And then Rowan spoke again, and his words nearly had her heart both stopping and leaping out of her chest at once. “I came here with someone, but it wasn‘t with Lyria.” His silver eyebrows were so drawn together that a deep crinkle had formed between his eyes.

She stared up at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Her heart was beating so wildly that she could hardly breathe. Because it was with her that Rowan had snuck up here. They had done so on numerous occasions, whenever they wanted some alone time away from all of their friends.

“I don’t feel very well,” Rowan murmured.

Aelin reached over and touched him on the arm, his bare skin was surprisingly warm beneath her fingertips, given the cold, “You should go to the infirmary, Rowan. Madam Rosamund will get you all sorted out and you’ll feel better in no time. Sound good?”

Rowan’s gaze fell to where she was touching his arm, and for several long heartbeats he stared at her fingers. And then slowly, his eyes rose to hers and Aelin’s breath caught as a different sort of look came over his face. His green eyes softened, looking more like pools of molten pools emerald. Aelin could only describe it as a look of awe, like he was a man seeing the sunlight for the first time in years.

“Rowan?” she asked, her voice coming out much softer than intended.

His eyelids shuttered at the sound of her voice, and then he nodded and said, almost breathlessly, “Okay.”

~*~*~

Rowan’s eyes shifted to the blonde haired girl walking beside him as they made their way to the hospital wing. As he studied her, a warmth spread through his body, bubbling up in his chest.

Looking at her made his heart ache with joy. She was so beautiful. With her golden hair falling about her shoulders, and those stunning turquoise eyes with the ring of molten gold in their centers. Everything within him want nothing more than to just stare at her and never look away.

He didn’t understand it. He … loved Lyria but… why did he feel like drawn to this girl? Like something inside of him was pulling him towards her. Why was it becoming increasingly more difficult to tear his gaze away? His skin still tingled where she had touched him before, like fire was dancing across his skin.

As he watched, she caught her lower lip between her teeth, a look of worry or sadness or both dimming her lovely eyes. And it was as if a pressure settled on his chest, weighing down on him and making it difficult to breathe.

Rowan didn’t like that look. Not one bit. He wanted to make that sadness go away, wanted to put a smile on her face. He would do anything.

Taking a step closer to her, Rowan tilted his head. “Why are you sad?” he asked, his brows drawing together. Her eyes darted up to his, and his heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

Her lips twitched up into a small smile then. “That’s very sweet of you, Rowan,” she said softly.

And her voice. It was as sweet and feathery soft as a summer song and the magic coursing though his veins sang along with each note. Here here here, it said. Here was where he was supposed to be.

Rowan’s feet halted of their own accord, and he turned towards her, smiling down at her broadly. She paused, looking up at him curiously. He lifted his hand to her face, tracing his fingertips along her cheek before brushing them through her hair. The silken strands slipped between his fingers like liquid gold. “Your hair is so soft,” he murmured, completely transfixed as he twirled a wavy lock. “And it’s so pretty. It looks like it was made of sunlight.”

She huffed a soft laugh, that ghost of a smile that had graced her lips growing wider. And it was so lovely and warm that it stole the breath from his lungs and set his heart to racing. It was as exhilarating as flying it his hawk form, even as his feet were still firmly planted on the ground.

Gods, he wanted to hug her. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go. So he did just that.

Rowan took another careful step closer, giving her the space to back away if she so wanted. But she didn’t. And he slowly slipped his arms around her waist, gently tugging her against him. And the relief he felt at that action, the way she fit in his arms, as if she had been made to perfectly fit there, had him inhaling sharply, and the scent of jasmine and lavender filled his senses.

Oh, oh. That scent. He remembered that scent, loved it. That scent was home. Rowan squeezed her a bit tighter, nestling his face against her hair. “You smell good,” he sighed, letting his eyes fall blissfully closed.

He both heard and felt the soft laugh that shook her body. And then, almost hesitantly, her own hands went around him, settling lightly on his back as she hugged him in return. Rowan’s face was hurting from smiling so much, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t help it. He was so-

Lyria.

The name seemed to flutter to the surface of his mind, and a pretty face with chestnut eyes and long brown hair flashing behind his closed eyes. Lyria. Lyria.

But though it beckoned to him, tried to cling to him and drag him back down into the warm, inviting depths with it, Rowan’s heart recoiled from it.

It could not compare to the golden-haired young woman held within his arms. It was nothing to her light and her warmth, it was cold in comparison. And his mind easily shook off its feeble grip, as if he were merely shrugging out of a cloak. And everything became clear.

Aelin. This girl, this was Aelin, his fireheart. And he loved her.

That low, tingling warmth in his chest spread through the rest of his body, from his fingers down to his toes. Keeping his arms around her, Rowan pulled back slightly. Just enough that he could see her face, so that his eyes could drink her in as his lips parted and he said, “I love you.”

Those stunning turquoise and gold eyes widened in shock. “W-what?”

Laughing lightly, Rowan lifted his hands to cradle her face, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. “I said,” he began, smiling as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, “that I love you, Aelin.”

Her cheeks turned a charming shade of pink a she blinked up at him, her eyes darting nervously between his. “I- Rowan, you-”

But before she could get the words out, the world shifted beneath his feet. Rowan’s hands dropped from her face to her shoulders in an attempt to steady himself. A strange feeling washed through him, leaving him feeling hollow and cold and numb in its wake. His stomach churned. “I.. really don’t feel well,” he rasped out, his face crumpling. His grip on her shoulders tightened as he began to sway on his feet.

“Rowan?” Aelin asked in alarm, her arms snaking back around his waist as she tried to offer him some support.

His fingers went slack, and Rowan lost his grip on her. He lost his grip on everything as black formed around the edges of his vision.

“Rowan!”

And he was too much for Aelin to hold up as his legs finally gave out from beneath him and he crumpled. His knees slammed into the unforgiving stone floor a heartbeat before his face did, pain blooming in his temple and then he knew no more.

~*~*~

The air smelled… different.

That was the first thought that formed in Rowan’s mind as he rose into consciousness. It wasn’t the familiar, comforting cinnamon and apple and pine scent of the common room and dorms. No, this smelled of green things and fresh linens.

With some effort, Rowan managed to force his heavy eyelids open. And as his blurry vision slowly adjusted, the high white arches of the ceiling above him came into focus.

The hospital wing. He was in the hospital wing. Rowan had found himself here on more than a few occasions over the years, sometimes visiting Aelin, but usually as a patient himself, often in the cot right next to hers. By this point, the that familiar ceiling was as easy to recognize as the one in his own house.

But… why was he here?

His body felt heavy and achy, his limbs like deadweights, and there was a throbbing pain the in right side of his face. The last thing he could remembered clearly was kissing Aelin goodnight in the common room, and then he went up to bed. He had found that box of pastries and… Oh. Oh no.

Everything began to slowly trickle back to him. It was blurry and fractured, but he remembered eating a few of those apple pastries. Remembered fighting with the twins and being chased down the halls. He remembered Aelin finding him at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Oh gods.

Something warm twitched around his left hand, drawing his attention away from the panic welling in his chest. Turning his still sleep-heavy gaze to the left, he found Aelin. She was sitting on a low stool, her upper half laying partially across his cot, long golden hair fanned out over the ivory blanket covering his legs. But despite her being sound asleep, her smaller hand was wrapped firmly around his.

Rowan smiled softly, a warmth blooming in his chest at the sight of her. He ran his thumb over the backs of her fingers lightly, so that he didn’t wake her.

The sound of heeled shoes clicking against the floor met Rowan’s ears and he glanced up to see Madam Rosamund heading their way. “Oh good, you’re awake,” she said cheerfully, but quietly, noting the still sleeping Aelin. She offered him a small brown cup, “Drink this Mr. Whitethorn, it will help with the pain."

Seemingly on cue, his body gave a twinge that had him wincing as he reached for the offered cup. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip. And nearly gagged; it tasted like mud. Fighting back a cringe, he downed the rest of it and quickly handed the cup back, eager to be rid of the lingering smell.

As Madam Rosamund took back the cup with a small smirk, Aelin began to stir. She grumbled softly, turning her head so that her face was buried in the blanket. The healer’s brown eyes flitted between the two of them, before she gave Rowan a knowing little smile as she walked away.

With a groan, Aelin sat up, her golden hair falling in a tangled curtain over her face as she glanced around with sleepy eyes. When her gaze fell upon him, she instantly perked up in surprise, her eyes brightening.

"Hey, fireheart,” Rowan murmured, smiling up at her.

“Hi,” she replied softly, a lovely smile lighting up her face at his words “How are you feeling?” She reached up to brush a few strands of hair off of his brow.

“Terrible. But alive,” he answered honestly, giving her a crooked smile.

Aelin laughed at that. “Good.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his brow, and when she pulled back she gave him a little smirk. “Death by love potion would have been a terrible way to go, you know,” she teased, her nose crinkling.

He let out a low groan, his face heating as he let his head fall back onto the pillow. “I never want to see another amortentia potion again.”

Still grinning, Aelin turned to the nearby nightstand and picked up a pitcher, pouring him a cup of water. But as she handed the cup to him, her expression turned a bit sour. Rowan arched a brow at her questioningly as he accepted the water, curious as to what had caused her mood shift but grateful none the less for the drink; he was eager for something to wash away the mud-taste of that tonic.

As he was in the middle of swallowing a large gulp, she finally spoke, and he nearly became strangled. “Lyria actually had the nerve to show up here to check on you,” Aelin muttered darkly, picking at a loose thread in the blanket.

He cleared his throat, arching a brow at her. “Oh, really?” Given that Aelin obviously hadn’t been expelled, he thought it was safe to assume that that meant Lyria hadn’t been too horribly maimed. But still… judging from the look on her face, that meeting had not gone very well for Lyria.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, as she examined her fingernails. “I may or may not have conjured a dragon made of fire to chase her across the school,” she admitted, her tone anything but repentant. In fact, she sounded downright pleased with herself. And then she added under her breath, “And her hair may also be several inches shorter now.”

Rowan laughed, a grin spread across his face. That sounded just like his fireheart. But as he laughed, pain wracked his body again and he winced. Gods, why did everything hurt?

Aelin noticed the pained expression and leaned in closer again, running her free hand over his face soothingly. “You had a reaction to one of the ingredients in the potion,” she explained, her brow furrowing with what looked like both concern and anger. “She added more that she was supposed to and let it… mature so that the effects would be stronger. It’s why you began to feel so sick before you passed out.” By the time she had finished, her face was set firmly in a scowl.

“Ugh,” he groaned, dropping back into the pillow with his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know which was worse. The pain.. or the fact that he still didn’t remembering exactly what all he had done while under the effects of that spell. If he had been spewing lovey-dovey nonsense about Lyria all night…

Oh gods, Aelin. He lifted his head and glanced up at his girlfriend, only to find her already watching him, as if she were worried he might become sick again. That was when he noticed just how exhausted she looked.

He lifted a hand and ran a finger tip over the dark smudge beneath her eye. “You look tired,” he murmured softly.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Och! Thanks, buzzard. Just what every girl wants to hear her boyfriend say,” but her tone was full of teasing, and she gave him a sideways smirk. He knew what she was trying to do, she was trying to make it seem as if it were not a big deal. But it was to him. And after a moment, her expression sobered and she took his hand between both of hers, lacing their fingers together. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.” After what happened, she didn’t have to add.

Rowan’s gaze softened, a warmth blooming in his chest, and if it were possible, Rowan thought that he might have fallen a little more in love with her. He squeezed her hand gently, until she glanced up at him again. “You still need to get some rest, fireheart. I’ll be fine now,” he said softly, trying his best to give her a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t entirely sure that it didn’t look more like a grimace.

“Madam Rosamund ordered me back to the dorms last night,” she pouted, her mouth twisting into a slight frown. “But I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been here all day today. The twins brought me something to eat from the feast so that I didn’t have to leave.”

The feast? Rowan blinked at her. But the feast wasn’t until- “How long have I been asleep?” he asked in confusion.

Aelin met his gaze. “You’ve been asleep for almost two days."

Rowan gaped at her. Two days? His eyes flitted to the curtain beside the bed, through a small crack he could see a darkened evening sky. But that meant-

"It’s Yulemas night,” she confirmed sadly, her brows drawn in sympathy as she read the shock on his face.

With another groan, one that had little to do with the pain in his body, Rowan scrubbed at his face with the heel of his palm. He had screwed everything up. Aelin certainly hadn’t been planning on spending the holiday cooped up in the hospital wing. “I’m sorry, fireheart,” he sighed.

She arched a brow, reaching over to grasp his wrist and pull his hand away from his face. “Hey, no don’t you start that. It’s not your fault.” She lifted their still joined hands to her lips and pressed a kiss to the back of his, flashing him a reassuring smile over his knuckles. “I’m just happy that you’re alright.” Her voice wavered slight at the words, revealing just how worried she had truly been.

Rowan smiled weakly up at her, though he still felt horrible. He lifted his free hand to her face, brushing his thumb along her cheek.

But then Aelin a small smirk formed on her lips. “You… said some pretty interesting things while you were still potioned up,” she teased, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

He swallowed nervously, forcing out a low huffed laugh. This was exactly what he had been dreading. Finding out exactly what manner of foolishness he had gotten himself into while under that spell, all the mortifying things he had said and done that he couldn’t recall. But… he peered up at her from beneath his lashes. He couldn’t help but wonder why she was the one blushing. “What sort of interesting things?” he asked carefully.

That smirk became a full blown grin. “Oh, this and that,” she crooned playfully. “You said that I smelled nice and that my hair looks like sunlight. Which is definitely a step up from your comparing Lyria’s hair to dirt."

Rowan felt his face warm.

But then her gaze dropped to their joined hands, and the flush on her own face darkened further. "There at the end it.. seemed like the spell shifted or something. From Lyria over to me.”

“Oh?” He asked a bit breathlessly. Never before had he heard of a love potion doing that.

Aelin nodded. She glanced at him, the look almost shy, but her voice was even and unwavering, “You told me that you loved me.”

Rowan felt the blood drain from his face, his eyes widening. “I, uh- I did?” he stammered weakly. Oh, this was so very decidedly not how he had wanted to tell her.

“Mmhmm,” she murmured, nodding as she bit her lip, grinning down at him. She seemed rather pleased about it, which was a big relief, and Rowan let out a shaky breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. She arched a brow at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. “Are you going to tell me it was just the potion talking? Or-” she trailed off, her voice full of teasing.

But beneath it all, he heard that hint of uncertainty that she was trying to cover up. He saw the small glimmer of fear and hesitation in her beautiful eyes.

Rowan shook his head, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I love you, Aelin,” he said firmly, wanting to leave no room for doubt in her heart, her mind.

A slow, lovely smile spread across Aelin’s face. And it was so bright and joyful that, for several heartbeats, Rowan couldn’t breathe. And then she leaned down to press her lips to his in a soft kiss that set his pulse and his magic to fluttering faster than a snitches wings. When she pulled back, he felt her grinning against his lips as she whispered, “I love you too, Rowan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was worth the wait 💚

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a part 2, I just need a bit more time to figure it out. Writing Rowan under a love potion is more complicated than I expected.
> 
> Also posted on tumblr, @westofmoon. I post snippets there.
> 
> I do not consent to this work being hosted on any unofficial apps or to any other websites.


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